


By a Thread

by deixisdyad



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sewing and Sportsball, Some Humor, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8259304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deixisdyad/pseuds/deixisdyad
Summary: "How do you keep your clothes so nice, anyhow?""What else would I do at night instead of sleep?"SEP fic. In which Gabriel Reyes is very good at mending Jack's clothes, while Jack is not.





	

Jack knew to knock first. Reyes’s voice from the other side of the door let him know to come in. Jack used his keycard to enter. He smelled aftershave. Reyes was applying it over the sink. Jack indulged himself a deep breath before he slid the door shut. Reyes met his gaze in the mirror.  
  
"Something up tonight?" Reyes hung a washcloth on the wall rack, eyes still on him.  
  
Jack held up his standard issue combat shirt. A corner of Reyes's mouth curved up.  
  
"Again, Jack?"  
  
"Again," said Jack. "I ain't doing it on purpose, you know."  
  
"I know. It'd help if you practiced stitching it yourself."  
  
"You’re always a much better tailor than I am for when my shirt needs fixed."  
  
"And you’re terrible at flattery, Jack Morrison. Sit down."  
  
Jack sat on the edge of Reyes's bed. Reyes walked over and fished around in his bedside drawer. He produced his army-standard sewing kit. Jack had busted a shoulder seam again in the weight room. His muscle mass had begun to increase from when he first started treatment in the enhancement program. He never caught it in time.  
  
"You keep letting your body sneak up on you. Why don’t you pretend it's an omnic?" Reyes opened the kit.  
  
Reyes liked to joke that it was because Jack at first had no muscle mass to begin with. Jack always countered that Reyes was just bitter his bench pressing record was no longer uncontested.  
  
"I can read you league updates if you want," Jack said. He settled in. "I know you haven't had time for them."  
  
Reyes kept the thread between his teeth as he stuck the end through the needle eye. He tied the knot without looking as he coughed into his shoulder.  
  
"How do you keep your clothes so nice, anyhow?" Jack rested his forearms down on his thighs and watched Reyes.  
  
"What else would I do at night instead of sleep?" Reyes picked up Jack's shirt. He inspected the tear as a doctor assesses a wound.  
  
Jack grinned. He propped his chin on a hand. "I can think of a few things."  
  
"Very funny, Jack. I'm in _stitches_."  
  
"Stats?"  
  
"Sure. Go ahead." Reyes looked down and began to sew. "Lakers."  
  
"I know that."  
  
"My bad, Jack. Forgot for a second you followed anything above college level."  
  
"Shove off, Gabriel.”  
  
"What a great thing to say to the man fixing your shirt." Reyes lifted the sleeve to inspect his work so far.  
  
Jack picked up Reyes's portable device from the bed. Government-issued, like everyone else’s. He opened a sports center application and rattled off some numbers and names of players he’d only heard in passing. Jack was a Hoosier for life, but he knew enough to keep up. When he and Reyes had first met that first week of the program, basketball was what they’d had in common. Basketball had been all they talked about.  
  
Reyes nodded along as he repaired the right shoulder seam. Sometimes he frowned and said something vulgar under his breath. He jittered his leg and swallowed.  
  
"Didn't they get that point guard last season? I don't see how the pros can just trade these guys around," said Jack.  
  
"You need to size up soon."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Go up a size. I can only do so much for your shirts, Jack." Reyes's tone was somber.  
  
Jack laughed. "Don't tell me I gotta size up my socks, too."  
  
"You worried I'll stop mending those?"  
  
"I might be."  
  
"If your sense of humor doesn't improve," said Reyes, "it'll be sooner rather than later."  
  
Jack looked over a few times to watch Reyes in concentration. Reyes committed himself to everything he did. He worked with steady fingers that were good for pulling triggers. Jack knew he kept himself busy writing lists of armor improvements and the materials required. A special file was made for them in the inbox of Jack’s device.  
  
After some time, Jack finished his Lakers headline report, and he switched to the Pacers. Jack liked to keep the score even. He started to read the top post before he saw Reyes tense up in the corner of his eye.  
  
"You okay?" Jack raised his head.  
  
Reyes swallowed. He placed Jack's shirt and his supplies on the bed with measured, delicate movements. Then he walked to the sink, back stiff, bent over it and got sick.  
  
"Oh, darn, Gabriel." Jack tossed the device on the sheets next to his discarded shirt and grabbed a glass from the bedside table. Reyes kept a gallon of water under his bed. Jack poured some into the glass. Reyes continued to heave into the sink. The serums' side effects crept up on them on non-treatment days. It could be a racing pulse, or a migraine, or temporary paralysis. It could be all three at once. Everyone reacted differently.  
  
Jack went to the sink. Reyes's back arched when Jack set his hand on it. Jack noticed some blood in the sink mixed with the sick.  
  
"I'm sorry. I should’ve noticed you weren’t well." Jack activated the automatic faucet. He tried not to look at the blood.  
  
Reyes held up a trembling finger. His breathing evened out, and he coughed. He grabbed a fistful of washcloth from the rack on the wall. His shaking hand wiped it over his face in a few rough, graceless motions before he tossed it to the ground. Jack passed the water to him. Their fingers touched. Reyes took a few sips.  
  
"You a bit better now?" said Jack.  
  
"Wasn't too bad. I've had worse.”  
  
"You don't have to fix my shirt when you're about to hurl." Jack didn't mention the blood.  
  
"Yeah," said Reyes. "It's a pretty nice shirt. Solid poly-cotton blend."  
  
"You matter a good deal more to me than a shirt."  
  
Reyes's laugh became another coughing fit. His brow shone under the cold light of the room. Jack was overcome with the brief, unexpected urge to press his nose to it. To give some comfort with an intimacy he hadn’t earned. Reyes laid his head on Jack's shoulder. He finished drinking his water. Jack kept very still. He couldn't lift his hand from Reyes's back.  
  
"Not like I'm going to die from this,” Reyes said after some time. He transferred the empty glass. “I’m all right. Here."  
  
"Cramps?"  
  
"No. Not feeling so hot, though. Should probably lie down.”  
  
"Here," said Jack. "Let me help. There we go, small steps. I always forget how heavy you are, Gabriel. Oh. I didn't mean that as a bad thing. It's a lot of muscle. Like your legs, I mean. That's really great."  
  
Reyes let out a long breath.  
  
Jack pulled the sheets down and helped Reyes onto the bed. He placed a box of tissues beside him and poured more water. Reyes grinned a little.  
  
"You got a real knack for this." He gave Jack's arm a weak pat and a shake.  
  
"Tell you what." Jack sat down. The mattress sank beneath him. "You stay there. I'll get the rest of this done."  
  
"Jack," said Reyes, "that shirt's going to rip again in a day if you do it yourself." Jack detected a note of dread in his voice.  
  
"Tough luck. Walk me through it. I’ll learn from the best." Jack picked up his shirt and the needle.  
  
“Still surprised you don't know to do a straight stitch," said Reyes.  
  
“Yeah," said Jack. “Guess I was too busy learning how to drive three different tractor models.”  
  
“That’s coming in real handy for you now, huh?”  
  
Jack laughed.  
  
Reyes was right. The seam re-opened during solo training the next morning. When Jack later returned to his room, a stack of new, neatly-folded shirts waited for him on his bed. He picked them up and checked the label. A size up.  
  
He thought, as he set them in his closet, they smelled a bit like aftershave.

**Author's Note:**

> so, I know I _just_ posted a SEP story in which one of them is sick, but the Halloween comic revelation that Gabriel Reyes is a damn good tailor was too tempting. this is my moment of weakness.
> 
> I loved finding out how big basketball culture is in the American Midwest! considering Reaper's multiple Lakers lines, I thought it'd be nice if that's what they initially bonded over. 
> 
> Reyes is just as much a fan of puns in life as he is in death. 
> 
> (comments appreciated if you liked it! part of a nutritious breakfast.)


End file.
